I don't do organized religion. What does that mean?

So, yesterday I had a conversation with a good friend who is a self-appointed scholar activist about the political repression and protest in Egypt. During the course of the conversation I happened to mention in passing that President Obama prayed for the Egyptian protesters at the National Prayer Breakfast. At the mentioning of this, she went into one of those self-righteous activist tizzies about how organized religion is the root of the problem and ended her soliloquy with, “I do not do organized religion.” Of course, I looked at her and said, “What do you mean you do not do organized religion?” And, she said, “It’s oppressive and I am more spiritual.”

All I could say to her in that one moment in the tone of my tell-you-like-it-is godmother is, “Is that so.”

But, the more I think about it her response and the many conversations I have had over the years with activist of all kinds (i.e. feminists, Marxist, non-conformist, progressives, liberals) about organized religion infuriates me.

And all I want to say is this:[In the tone of my tell-you-like-it-is godmother] What do you mean you do not do organized religion? Does organization make religion oppressive and if so, how? And, can you give me examples of religious or spiritual practices that are not organized and serve people? Does organization make it oppressive? Or, is it simply oppressive because it’s religion.I find myself wanting to know the answers to these questions.

But if I conjure the spirit of my tell-you-like-it-is godmother she would say, “Now, when people say they do not do organized religion as if it was a fading fashion fad it means that they enjoy sleeping in on the weekends. It also means they enjoy working on the causes of poor working class people, but do not want to necessarily share their worldviews and know their culture. And, if we are honest, most people radical activists advocate for and mobilize for believe in some God or Goddess or both (i.e. Hinduism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Lucumi, etc.). But, the radical activist tells herself, they have internalized their oppression eventually they will see the light and become as I . . . agnostic. Of course, radical activist think they are more enlightened because they can afford a personal therapist, sabbaticals off to recuperate, niche radical communities that feed their self righteousness, time to learn world indigenous rituals and take the names of the spirits and the gods from the practice to use at their retreats. Yes, they do not do organized religion because often their class privileges allow such discretions. This is not to say that the lack of class privilege causes one to participate in an organized religion because that is not true, but the ability to make judging statements about those that practice is about privilege.”

“I don’t do organized religion.”

That statement sends me into a crazy head space. It’s a liberal catch phrase like no other. I have heard it bantered around radical and progressive conferences. I have heard it proudly proclaimed in small feminist reading groups. And once again I ask, does organization make it oppressive? Or, is it simply oppressive because it’s religion. And, I think it is the latter. And, if it is the latter just say it. Don’t hide behind the organizational structure of the religion because that structure for better or for worse helps to deliver social services and skills to our communities of color. Yes, the structure of the largest world religions can be oppressive to LGBTQ individuals, people of color, women, and opposing faith believers. But, I tell you, on its most good day holding constant the homophobia, the materialism, the sexism, the history of oppression, organized religions encourage people to be better people . . . to be more loving people . . . to be more tolerant people . . . to be more about social justice people.

Just because a religion is organized does not mean it is oppressive.

And with that, just because you, radical activist, are more spiritual and don’t participate in organized religion does not mean that the spaces in which you find spiritual quickening are not oppressive. Because I tell you this, I have participated in such spaces at various activist gatherings and conferences and have found that they “passive aggressively” force people to be vulnerable and open to “whatever” simply because they purport to be non-hierarchical (i.e. organized) and non-oppressive. And if you choose not to be open in the ways laid out formally or through the social practices of the radical group than you are made to feel as if you are not committed to liberation.

It is about power and group politics 101.

And, I think I agree with the late feminist Iris Young that oppression can exist in such “ideal communities” . . . that simply because you purport openness, you are not organized, you see the other face to face (i.e. mirroring activities), and you have the veneer of consensus simply because you all believe the same ideology . . . oppression does exist here too and to think otherwise leads to oppression.

“I don’t do organized religion.”

Every time I hear it my spirit-woman cringes. It cringes because I believe we are spiritual beings having a human experience and sometimes people experience the spirit in their organized religions. It cringes because it knows that what can make organized religion oppressive also operates in radical conscious spaces too . . . intentional or unintentional consummation of power or power intentionally or unintentionally consummated. I think Audre Lorde said it best that it is the master’s tools that will not dismantle the master’s house. And I know many people take that to mean among many things religions, but I take it to mean the motive behind the enacting of the tools. So, if the motive is consensus at all cost the use of religion or the use of radical ideology is corruptible because it seeks to wipe away, silence, destroy, and kill difference.

“I don’t do organized religion.”

Well, if you don’t do it, radical activist, than you do not serve the poor, the working class, the women of the world, and people of color who by and large believe in some god, goddesses, and spirits. And who realize that it is through organization of themselves and their communities that they can come together to worship, to chant, to pray, and to meditate . . . that there is something profoundly spiritual about coming together as a community and learning how to become better people and using the organizational structure of the church to help people and communities.

I tell you, I was once one of those who said, “I don’t do organized religion.” But, I have come to find that the same oppressive issues that drove me from Christianity rear their ugly heads somewhat differently in progressive radical spaces too which got me to thinking about Audre Lorde’s conception of the dismantling the master’s house. Once again, I think it is the motives that implement the tools that we should ward against. Mind you, some tools are inherently oppressive (i.e. guns and separatist/elitist ideologies). But, the motives of absolute consensus and likeness are what we should guard against.

“I don’t do organized religion.”

Then you fail to see how so many social movements globally have used their organized religions to fight against oppression . . . from India (Swadeshi Movement) to Liberia (Christian and Muslim Liberian women) to the US (The Civil Rights Movement).

“I don’t do organized religion.”

Hm . . . then, you, don’t seek to help, love, and work with people you so desperately want to help, love, and work with.

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Dara

Peace sis,

As usual, love your fiery writing. I have to (with love) disagree with so much here, however. (Although I don’t know the conversations and contexts of the people in which you are referencing), I think there are lot of assumptions here that I would like to challenge. On a personal note: I grew up without much money but not Christian- I grew up in indigenous African culture. And my mother wasn’t privileged economically- at all. She made the connection (yep without even a highschool diploma) between the historical hypocrisy of Christianity (via conquest and enslavement) and our people worldwide…. and then sought another way. In fact, I know many low income people/working class people who reject Christianity. And I know many wealthy people who embrace it vigorously. So, while I agree in general, in many areas, it’s a challenge to work with (some of) our people when we don’t identify as Christian, it’s not the case everywhere.

Wow, there’s so much I want to say about this but no time…

Let me say that I think the problem is on both sides. I think the issue you’re describing is dogma. The same self-righteousness you describe on the part of agnostics or atheists (which, disclaimer: I used to be agnostic for yeeeears and still agree with it), I see on the part of Christians– both sides dictating to the other what a person should– or should not– believe in. But I HAVE to say (having just come back from Ghana this year and Haiti last year)— organized Christianity is doing us DIRTY. Missionaries- churches who withhold food and water and shelter unless someone accepts Jesus is satanic to me (and I don’t even believe in satan lol!) It was used and still is– to passify our inner warriors. And it’s sadly worked on so many levels. I can give you all sorts of examples (but not much time here). But I can’t help but to believe that if folks dig deep enough, we’d reject Christianity (even tho I give thanks for what we turned into a tool that helped to preserve our Spirits and faith so that we could survive.) But that’s honestly my dogma (or regurgitation of imperialism).

So while I love your fire and agree wholeheartedly that we need to challenge privilege, I have to push back on the assumptions that low-income or POC = mainstream organized religion (which is how I interpreted this). And the reality is that had we not been colonized, enslaved and then “civilized” via Christianity… who would we believe in? Or not? I guess the point is that it should be your (honest) choice. Not mine. Or our oppressors.

Dara

Peace sis,

As usual, love your fiery writing. I have to (with love) disagree with so much here, however. (Although I don’t know the conversations and contexts of the people in which you are referencing), I think there are lot of assumptions here that I would like to challenge. On a personal note: I grew up without much money but not Christian- I grew up in indigenous African culture. And my mother wasn’t privileged economically- at all. She made the connection (yep without even a highschool diploma) between the historical hypocrisy of Christianity (via conquest and enslavement) and our people worldwide…. and then sought another way. In fact, I know many low income people/working class people who reject Christianity. And I know many wealthy people who embrace it vigorously. So, while I agree in general, in many areas, it’s a challenge to work with (some of) our people when we don’t identify as Christian, it’s not the case everywhere.

Wow, there’s so much I want to say about this but no time…

Let me say that I think the problem is on both sides. I think the issue you’re describing is dogma. The same self-righteousness you describe on the part of agnostics or atheists (which, disclaimer: I used to be agnostic for yeeeears and still agree with it), I see on the part of Christians– both sides dictating to the other what a person should– or should not– believe in. But I HAVE to say (having just come back from Ghana this year and Haiti last year)— organized Christianity is doing us DIRTY. Missionaries- churches who withhold food and water and shelter unless someone accepts Jesus is satanic to me (and I don’t even believe in satan lol!) It was used and still is– to passify our inner warriors. And it’s sadly worked on so many levels. I can give you all sorts of examples (but not much time here). But I can’t help but to believe that if folks dig deep enough, we’d reject Christianity (even tho I give thanks for what we turned into a tool that helped to preserve our Spirits and faith so that we could survive.) But that’s honestly my dogma (or regurgitation of imperialism).

So while I love your fire and agree wholeheartedly that we need to challenge privilege, I have to push back on the assumptions that low-income or POC = mainstream organized religion (which is how I interpreted this). And the reality is that had we not been colonized, enslaved and then “civilized” via Christianity… who would we believe in? Or not? I guess the point is that it should be your (honest) choice. Not mine. Or our oppressors.

Hmmm, I’m definitely going to have to read this piece/peace several times. On a first read, I was very disturbed by it… As a Black feminist lesbian who also isn’t a fan of “organized” religion, I felt under attack… It’s important to note, that I’m a practitioner of vipassana meditation, which is based upon the teaching of The Buddha. I was raised Sufi Muslim and my ancestral roots are grounded in the Baptist and AME Churches.

I’m sure I didn’t feel under attack more than who are fans of “organized” religion when they hear the “hate ‘organized’ religion” stance…

I think you and the sista radical activists are dealing with absolutes and from my vantage point and perspective, there are no absolutes…. My father and I had a conversation two days ago about something very similar to this and he said “I don’t and won’t argue theology. I argue for humanity… now if folks use theology to be better human beings and treat everyone with peace and justice, wonderful… but I’m not going to argue about any form of theology.” ~Michael Simmons.

Personally I’m much more interested in looking at what people do, not what they say they do. If they credit God/Goddess/Orisha for moving in the world with peace, compassion, love, and justice, wonderful… If they credit Marx for moving in the world with peace, compassion, love, and justice, wonderful.

I, too, don’t want to get into debates about all of this…I just want folks, including myself, to move with integrity, peace, justice, compassion, and love.

Hmmm, I’m definitely going to have to read this piece/peace several times. On a first read, I was very disturbed by it… As a Black feminist lesbian who also isn’t a fan of “organized” religion, I felt under attack… It’s important to note, that I’m a practitioner of vipassana meditation, which is based upon the teaching of The Buddha. I was raised Sufi Muslim and my ancestral roots are grounded in the Baptist and AME Churches.

I’m sure I didn’t feel under attack more than who are fans of “organized” religion when they hear the “hate ‘organized’ religion” stance…

I think you and the sista radical activists are dealing with absolutes and from my vantage point and perspective, there are no absolutes…. My father and I had a conversation two days ago about something very similar to this and he said “I don’t and won’t argue theology. I argue for humanity… now if folks use theology to be better human beings and treat everyone with peace and justice, wonderful… but I’m not going to argue about any form of theology.” ~Michael Simmons.

Personally I’m much more interested in looking at what people do, not what they say they do. If they credit God/Goddess/Orisha for moving in the world with peace, compassion, love, and justice, wonderful… If they credit Marx for moving in the world with peace, compassion, love, and justice, wonderful.

I, too, don’t want to get into debates about all of this…I just want folks, including myself, to move with integrity, peace, justice, compassion, and love.

Sarah

This is somewhat of a difficult question that I wrestle with in my broader seminary environment and local organizing context. Thank you for your contributions, Fallon and Dara.

I believe that God/dess is one of liberation, not oppression.

At this point, envisioning the Christian church as a very long people’s movement has been helpful to me in trying to understand what it means to work within/through/despite/for the church.

I also see that in many ways the church is not particularly organized. Thank goodness for the Holy Spirit, always messing up the structures we create!

At this point, though it is a struggle, I find it humbling, refreshing, and grounding to work in/with/through/despite/for the church. Part of the reason I can do this with integrity is because the core values of my denomination, Mennonite, are committed to the nonviolent message of the living God.

A short way to describe Anabaptists (of which Mennonites are a part) would be that Jesus is at the center of our faith, community is at the center of our life, and reconciliation is at the center of our work.

In any case, I see many of my close radical friends who cannot. I just have to remember (easier on some days than others) that God’s project is much broader than I can imagine, and so I work with myself to give grace to those who have hit their breaking point and walk away. I also must name my sense of loss that they are no longer participating in more traditional ways that would enrich the Body of Christ. However, I think the church/mosque/synagogue/temple/forest needs those who stick with it and those who leave it.

That’s all for now. Of course there is more to say. Thanks for sharing, all.

Sarah

This is somewhat of a difficult question that I wrestle with in my broader seminary environment and local organizing context. Thank you for your contributions, Fallon and Dara.

I believe that God/dess is one of liberation, not oppression.

At this point, envisioning the Christian church as a very long people’s movement has been helpful to me in trying to understand what it means to work within/through/despite/for the church.

I also see that in many ways the church is not particularly organized. Thank goodness for the Holy Spirit, always messing up the structures we create!

At this point, though it is a struggle, I find it humbling, refreshing, and grounding to work in/with/through/despite/for the church. Part of the reason I can do this with integrity is because the core values of my denomination, Mennonite, are committed to the nonviolent message of the living God.

A short way to describe Anabaptists (of which Mennonites are a part) would be that Jesus is at the center of our faith, community is at the center of our life, and reconciliation is at the center of our work.

In any case, I see many of my close radical friends who cannot. I just have to remember (easier on some days than others) that God’s project is much broader than I can imagine, and so I work with myself to give grace to those who have hit their breaking point and walk away. I also must name my sense of loss that they are no longer participating in more traditional ways that would enrich the Body of Christ. However, I think the church/mosque/synagogue/temple/forest needs those who stick with it and those who leave it.

That’s all for now. Of course there is more to say. Thanks for sharing, all.

Fallon, I really like this post, because I think it brings some provocative issues to the fore. What I have observed in the feminist circles in which I move is that in many ways, folks treat it as a religion, promoting it with evangelical fervor, and drawing all kinds of lines in the sand about right (feminist) and wrong (sexist, misogynist, not progressive, not feminist enough, etc). So what I’ve come to understand is that if we are honest, most of us hold to some idea not only about how we should live our lives, but also how we think others should live theirs, at least in relationship to us. Social justice activists work from the premise that the world is broken and that it can be fixed; Christian folks (my faith tradition) do, too. They simply disagree about the whys and the hows. And that disagreement is legitimate. But what becomes disingenuous is acting as though only the evangelical right or the fundamentalist Muslim believer, hold firmly to set of principles that govern how they think and act and believe the world should think and act. Here’s what I will concede though; religion has often been used as a tool of power and domination, particularly when you talk about Christianity. The difference is that folk of color and women have entered into and transformed–and indeed, even contested the notion that the powerful have a monopoly on the religion to begin with– those faith traditions in much the same way that Black feminists have engaged with women’s liberation, by showing that we have always cared about the liberation of women and by demonstrating that white women don’t have a monopoly on feminist politics. This is also why you find women’s activists extoling the powers of witnessing and testifying about our experiences and bringing them into the room. If those aren’t the practices of a faith tradition I don’t know what is. So I think that part of what needs to happen is that we need to acknowledge the connections between faith and social justice, and the ways that our faith in the potentiality of our world to be infinitely better than it currently is, through personal and or social transformation drive our practices, be they spiritual and/or social. That would be the ground of a genuine and truthful conversation.

Fallon, I really like this post, because I think it brings some provocative issues to the fore. What I have observed in the feminist circles in which I move is that in many ways, folks treat it as a religion, promoting it with evangelical fervor, and drawing all kinds of lines in the sand about right (feminist) and wrong (sexist, misogynist, not progressive, not feminist enough, etc). So what I’ve come to understand is that if we are honest, most of us hold to some idea not only about how we should live our lives, but also how we think others should live theirs, at least in relationship to us. Social justice activists work from the premise that the world is broken and that it can be fixed; Christian folks (my faith tradition) do, too. They simply disagree about the whys and the hows. And that disagreement is legitimate. But what becomes disingenuous is acting as though only the evangelical right or the fundamentalist Muslim believer, hold firmly to set of principles that govern how they think and act and believe the world should think and act. Here’s what I will concede though; religion has often been used as a tool of power and domination, particularly when you talk about Christianity. The difference is that folk of color and women have entered into and transformed–and indeed, even contested the notion that the powerful have a monopoly on the religion to begin with– those faith traditions in much the same way that Black feminists have engaged with women’s liberation, by showing that we have always cared about the liberation of women and by demonstrating that white women don’t have a monopoly on feminist politics. This is also why you find women’s activists extoling the powers of witnessing and testifying about our experiences and bringing them into the room. If those aren’t the practices of a faith tradition I don’t know what is. So I think that part of what needs to happen is that we need to acknowledge the connections between faith and social justice, and the ways that our faith in the potentiality of our world to be infinitely better than it currently is, through personal and or social transformation drive our practices, be they spiritual and/or social. That would be the ground of a genuine and truthful conversation.

Fallon

‎@Aishah

My intention was not to attack anyone. The title of the blog was an artifact of writing to get people to read the blog, but I do realize how I must be intentional about word usage when writing about such sensitive topics. With this …being said, I changed the title.

In general, my intention for writing the blog was to get at the complexities behind why people who are committed to a radical ethic shun organized religion if “organization” itself is the problem and not power. All religious and spiritual practices have an organized structure. They include standards and ritual of worship and meditation. They have ordained time for solitude and community gatherings. They have things you should wear and not eat. They have various structures where they commune together. Hence, all religious and spiritual communities have an element of organization.
However, where the issue comes into play is how power is operated in the organized space. Is it to silence and preach conformity or is it to liberate. And, when know currently and historically how it had been used for the latter.

However, the issue of organization is not necessarily animating the oppression and exploitation. It is the power and motives (i.e. structures of imperialism, colonialism, racism, sexism, heterosexism) that can corrupt the workings of all organizations not just religious and spiritual ones, but also those that purport to be progressive and radical. I think it is easy to point to the ways in which religion has and continues to oppress, but I think it is difficult for us to see how power often in the form of passive aggressive manipulation and commitment to liberation work in radical spaces too.

Perhaps, I generalized the notion that people of color and poor people are religious or uphold spiritual practices that are also organized, but I think this is the case.

@Brittany,

I agree we should:

“I think that part of what needs to happen is that we need to acknowledge the connections between faith and social justice, and the ways that our faith in the potentiality of our world to be infinitely better than it currently is, through personal and or social transformation drive our practices, be they spiritual and/or social.”

But, I think for this to happen both sides have to be “self-reflective” about how they negotiate power, inclusion, and exclusion. I think in some ways it is somewhat easier for us to see the working of oppression in religious and spiritual practices, but do we have the same convictions about how we “practice” of radical beliefs among each other.

Fallon

‎@Aishah

My intention was not to attack anyone. The title of the blog was an artifact of writing to get people to read the blog, but I do realize how I must be intentional about word usage when writing about such sensitive topics. With this …being said, I changed the title.

In general, my intention for writing the blog was to get at the complexities behind why people who are committed to a radical ethic shun organized religion if “organization” itself is the problem and not power. All religious and spiritual practices have an organized structure. They include standards and ritual of worship and meditation. They have ordained time for solitude and community gatherings. They have things you should wear and not eat. They have various structures where they commune together. Hence, all religious and spiritual communities have an element of organization.
However, where the issue comes into play is how power is operated in the organized space. Is it to silence and preach conformity or is it to liberate. And, when know currently and historically how it had been used for the latter.

However, the issue of organization is not necessarily animating the oppression and exploitation. It is the power and motives (i.e. structures of imperialism, colonialism, racism, sexism, heterosexism) that can corrupt the workings of all organizations not just religious and spiritual ones, but also those that purport to be progressive and radical. I think it is easy to point to the ways in which religion has and continues to oppress, but I think it is difficult for us to see how power often in the form of passive aggressive manipulation and commitment to liberation work in radical spaces too.

Perhaps, I generalized the notion that people of color and poor people are religious or uphold spiritual practices that are also organized, but I think this is the case.

@Brittany,

I agree we should:

“I think that part of what needs to happen is that we need to acknowledge the connections between faith and social justice, and the ways that our faith in the potentiality of our world to be infinitely better than it currently is, through personal and or social transformation drive our practices, be they spiritual and/or social.”

But, I think for this to happen both sides have to be “self-reflective” about how they negotiate power, inclusion, and exclusion. I think in some ways it is somewhat easier for us to see the working of oppression in religious and spiritual practices, but do we have the same convictions about how we “practice” of radical beliefs among each other.

Steve

For most who say they do not do “Organized Religion”, their statement is neither a condemnation of, nor is it a disassociation of themselves from organizations or religions. However, it is a condemnation of the horrors carried out in the name of religion and tolerated by/propagated from the clergy of “Organized Religion”. I doubt I need to list examples of religious dogma gone wrong.

Organizations are intrinsic to every thing that makes a society function. It is that simple, so an organized group could either be a force of great good or a force of great evil.

For starters, just to mention the commonality between the religions I have been exposed to are: 1. A Belief in the Divine, 2. A commandment to do good deeds.(Golden rule)

As such, religion by itself is not the problem. After all, how can a system of belief that commands you to be good be wrong. Organizations are You hit the nail on the head when you mentioned the function of power. However, power takes on a different role in “Organized Religion”. Those who wield power in religious circles are seen as the chosen ones of God or the Divine. Herein lies the problem, the words spoken by the clergy of “Organized Religions” are usually seen as an utterance from the Divine. And even if these ideas might run contrary to the “Golden Rule” and common morality, these ideas are easily and eagerly accepted by the religious followers because their fate in God. The rational behind this is quite simple: If God appointed this person as the leader and speaks through this person, anything the person says is translated as Will of God. As a result, there is no way actions carried out in the name of “Organized Religion” can be morally wrong since God is the author, the judge and the jury on morality.

Unlike non-religious groups based on shared philosophies and ideas, this idea of absolute power is never granted to its leaders. The ideas and words of the leaders must still be aligned with the core ideology of the group, and the actions demanded of other group members are not as easily subjected to the whim of the leader(s) in these group settings as they are in “Organized Religion”.

The unwillingness to give absolute power to the leaders is the reason why people choose not to do “Organized Religion”. This is not to say this is the only choice when you become part of a religion. But the absolute nature of the clergy in “Organized Religion” seems to be a main stay in religious circles from time immemorial.

However, I have a feeling you already know this.

Just a quick note (might sound preachy) on the tone of the writing. If your intentions were to alienate and offend those who do not do “Organized Religion” rather than to have a civil discourse, I think you might have been successful.

Sentences like, “All I could say to her in that one moment in the tone of my tell-you-like-it-is godmother is, ‘Is that so'” immediately turns those who disagree with you off. So much so that even if your points are valid, they will completely fall on deaf ears. Therefore it is not an effective way to create dialogue, which I bet is the real intention behind taking your time to write all these blogs.

I know, I know, “They” do it too, but as my elders always told me, because someone else does it, does not mean you ought to do it too.

Steve

For most who say they do not do “Organized Religion”, their statement is neither a condemnation of, nor is it a disassociation of themselves from organizations or religions. However, it is a condemnation of the horrors carried out in the name of religion and tolerated by/propagated from the clergy of “Organized Religion”. I doubt I need to list examples of religious dogma gone wrong.

Organizations are intrinsic to every thing that makes a society function. It is that simple, so an organized group could either be a force of great good or a force of great evil.

For starters, just to mention the commonality between the religions I have been exposed to are: 1. A Belief in the Divine, 2. A commandment to do good deeds.(Golden rule)

As such, religion by itself is not the problem. After all, how can a system of belief that commands you to be good be wrong. Organizations are You hit the nail on the head when you mentioned the function of power. However, power takes on a different role in “Organized Religion”. Those who wield power in religious circles are seen as the chosen ones of God or the Divine. Herein lies the problem, the words spoken by the clergy of “Organized Religions” are usually seen as an utterance from the Divine. And even if these ideas might run contrary to the “Golden Rule” and common morality, these ideas are easily and eagerly accepted by the religious followers because their fate in God. The rational behind this is quite simple: If God appointed this person as the leader and speaks through this person, anything the person says is translated as Will of God. As a result, there is no way actions carried out in the name of “Organized Religion” can be morally wrong since God is the author, the judge and the jury on morality.

Unlike non-religious groups based on shared philosophies and ideas, this idea of absolute power is never granted to its leaders. The ideas and words of the leaders must still be aligned with the core ideology of the group, and the actions demanded of other group members are not as easily subjected to the whim of the leader(s) in these group settings as they are in “Organized Religion”.

The unwillingness to give absolute power to the leaders is the reason why people choose not to do “Organized Religion”. This is not to say this is the only choice when you become part of a religion. But the absolute nature of the clergy in “Organized Religion” seems to be a main stay in religious circles from time immemorial.

However, I have a feeling you already know this.

Just a quick note (might sound preachy) on the tone of the writing. If your intentions were to alienate and offend those who do not do “Organized Religion” rather than to have a civil discourse, I think you might have been successful.

Sentences like, “All I could say to her in that one moment in the tone of my tell-you-like-it-is godmother is, ‘Is that so'” immediately turns those who disagree with you off. So much so that even if your points are valid, they will completely fall on deaf ears. Therefore it is not an effective way to create dialogue, which I bet is the real intention behind taking your time to write all these blogs.

I know, I know, “They” do it too, but as my elders always told me, because someone else does it, does not mean you ought to do it too.